


Hormonoes

by puta_bruta



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Alpha Erik, Cousin Incest, FWP, Intersex, King T'Challa - Freeform, M/M, Made up tradition towards the end, Male Lactation, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Childbirth, Omega T'Challa, One-Shot, Pointless, Pregnant T'Challa, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 20:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17732399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puta_bruta/pseuds/puta_bruta
Summary: Even though T'Challa's the pregnant one, Erik is the hormonal one.





	Hormonoes

Ever since T’Challa started showing signs of pregnancy, Erik had been all over him. The king grew some extra padding that his consort couldn’t help but salivate over.

“Please crush my neck with your thighs.” Erik told T’Challa when some new girth was added to them. It wasn’t just his extra-meat that turned Erik on. The alpha in him liked seeing his mate walk around with a belly heavy with his cubs. It made him want to reach out and palm his ass, which had grown wider as the baby bump grew. T’Challa found it annoying when he was handsy. He was tired and cranky all the time and the last thing he wanted was more sex.

“Sex is what got me like this in the first place.” T’Challa grumbled to his husband the first time Erik wanted to have a morning quickie.

T’Challa was lounging around in nothing but a skimpy black robe in the palace’s tea room. He was feeling antsy. All day, everyone had been fretting over him, telling him to sit down or put on some clothes and asking him if he was okay. Of course he was okay! He was a king! This was nothing! Just as he thought that, he felt a pain shoot up his back. T’Challa groaned and propped his belly up. He placed his hands on his back to rub it. Erik walked into the room and was hit with a wave of sweet, sweet pheromones from his pregnant husband. His cock started to grow hard and he wanted nothing more but to dick T’Challa down at the moment.

“Hey, beautiful.” Erik said. He slumped down on a chaise lounge chair and stretched his body. T’Challa’s eyes hungrily took in his muscles shifting from underneath his skin. Erik wasn’t wearing a shirt, only a pair of old army pants.

T’Challa cast him the side-eye. “What do you want?”

“What?” Erik leaned back and rested his head on his arms. “Can’t I check on my baby mama? See how he’s doing? If he needs anything?” Erik noticed his husband rubbing his back and instantly started to worry. “Do you need anything? A message? Does your back hurt?”

“No. I’m fine. Now if you please, I would like some time alone.” T’Challa said and turned away from him so his alpha didn't see his expression of discomfort. 

Erik got up and hugged T’Challa from behind. He started kissing his neck and rubbing his hands over his baby bump.

Almost immediately, T'Challa relaxed but then he tensed up. “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

Erik’s hands were gentle on his skin. “What? I can’t touch my babies?”

“You’re plotting something.”

“What makes you think that?” Erik asked as his hand slid lower and lower.

“I can feel your cock against my ass. It’s hard.”

Erik chuckled deeply. “How’d that happen?”

T’Challa shivered as the young alpha’s fingers dug between his legs, below his cock.“Erik, be serious. What do you want?”

Once he saw that the older man wasn’t budging, Erik started begging a little. “C’mon, babe. It’s been a while and I’m horny as fuck.”

“I don’t feel like bouncing up and down while pregnant.”

“Mmm,” Erik growled playfully like a dog against T’Challa, “That’s hot.”

T’Challa wriggled free and faced his husband. “You’re so obnoxious.”

“What if I hit it from the side?”

T’Challa crossed his arms and rested them on his belly.

Erik gave his husband puppy eyes. “C’mon, kitten. I’ll do all the work. You just lie back and take it.”

T’Challa rolled his eyes. “Fine. But we’re not having sex here. We have to go to our bedroom.”

***

T’Challa winced as he walked back to his chambers. His feet were killing him. Despite his mother advising him to rest because of his delicate condition, T’Challa went about his day as he usually did before Erik and his stupid potent sperm knocked him up. And now his poor feet were paying the price thanks to his hard head. He shuffled in his room and sat on his bed. He gave a sigh of relief as some of tension was lifted from his feet. He kicked off his sandals, undid a few buttons from his tunic, and curled his legs under him. A moment after he had settled himself on his giant bed, the doors to his room slid open and in came his husband with a wolfish smile on his face. He wore a sleeveless tunic and baggy pants.

“Hey, doll.” Erik said as a greeting.

T’Challa rubbed his stomach to soothe the babies stirring inside. “Hello, husband.” He winced when pain ran up the arches of his feet.

Erik was instantly by his side. “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Is it the babies?”

T’Challa waved his concern away. “No, it’s not the babies.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing. I’ve been standing around all day.”

“Thought I told you to rest.”

“Even though I am pregnant, I still have my duties, love. Besides, I am resting now, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Erik watched T’Challa rub the top of his feet. “Let me help you out, baby. Lie back.”

T’Challa lied back. Erik took his foot on his lap and started massaging it. T’Challa gave a little purr of pleasure, one which Erik didn’t fail to notice.

“Feel better?” Erik asked.

“Mmm, yes.” T’Challa stretched his legs then relaxed again. “Keep going.”

As Erik went on, his husband began giving noises of pleasure. His mini-Erik began to stir between his legs. “You like that?” he asked huskily.

“Yes” T’Challa said with a dopey grin. “Feels so good. Go on.”

Erik’s hands started to wander. They slipped up T’Challa’s ankles, then his calves, and then his thighs. His dick as half-hard by then just from hearing T’Challa encourage him.

“Erik, more.” T’Challa moaned.

“More?”

“Yes.”

Erik smirked. “I’ll give it to you.” Without warning, his slipped his fingers inside T’Challa’s underwear and pressed them against his cunt.

As if shocked, T’Challa gave a jump. “What are you doing?” he demanded. He pulled his legs away from Erik’s lap.

The hazy lust Erik had been feeling faded. “What do you mean? I’m going to finger you.”

T’Challa looked confused. “What? Why?”

Now it as Erik’s turn to be confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No! I just wanted a foot massage!”

Erik was incredibly disappointed. “But...”

T’Challa pushed him away. “Go away. I want to take a nap. I can’t trust you being here with your wandering fingers.”

“Baby… C’mon, let me stay.”

“No.”

“T’Challa, don’t be that way.”

“I’m not being any way. I just want to catch up on rest since it’s _your_ cubs that are waking me up every five minutes when I’m trying to sleep at night!”

With a huff, the king rolled to his side and lifted the covers over his head.

***

Omegan kings were required to give birth alone. When Erik heard of this Wakanda tradition, he lost his cool. “That’s the stupidest shirt I’ve ever heard! All this fucking technology and my baby has to give a fucking home birth?!”

“It’s tradition.” Ramonda said.

“Fuck that! I’m going in there!”

It was hard to hold him back but the Dora Milaje (and Shuri with a tranquilizer) managed. When Erik woke up, there was a fat little brown baby on his chest. His eyes went comically wide and then with a trembling hand he touched the baby. The skin was very soft.

“I see you’re awake.” a voice said next to him.

Erik’s head turned to the side. Laying next to him was his beloved husband and king with the covers drawn up to his chin. “Baby.” Erik said, voice soft so as to not wake up the little boy. “How do you feel?”

T’Challa stretched his legs a little with a hum. “Good. If it wasn’t for the heart-shaped herb I’d barely be able to move because of the birth.”

“God, I was so worried.” Erik said. He stretched his neck to place a kiss on T’Challa’s forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s cool. I mean, we got a heck of a prize out of all this.” Erik said, looking at the baby.

“Yes. We did.” T’Challa cuddled close to him. “His name is Malik.”

“Hey, Malik.” Erik said to the baby in a whisper. The infant only cooed sleepily and dug his little face closer into his bare chest. “So, this little guy took up all that space inside you?”

“Well, him and his siblings.”

Erik’s head snapped to look at T’Challa. “Siblings?”

Wordlessly, T’Challa peeled the covers down and revealed two more babies with their little faces buried in his chest. From the faint suckling sounds they were making, Erik guessed they were breastfeeding. He was so amazed by Malik he hadn’t noticed it.

“Triplets?” Erik asked, tone amazed.

“Yes.” T’Challa said, stroking the back of their little downy heads. “These two little ones are Bakari and Jaheem.”

Erik was in awe. “I have three sons?”

“Yes. Three little baby boys.”

“Babies...” Erik said, wistfully.

“Are you excited to be a father to them?” T’Challa asked.

“Hel—heck yeah. What about you? You ready to be a mama?”

“Of course.” T’Challa gripped his hand by his side. “I have you with me.”

 ***

Erik's horniness didn't go away after the birth. T'Challa was lactating gallons of milk. Most of it the triplets drank up but sometimes there was excess milk left that Erik was happy to take. 

"Damn." T'Challa grumbled. It was morning and was in his bedroom after a warm shower. He had picked out his tunic for the day, black as always, but was struggling to close the clasps over his chest.

Erik was still laying in bed, the lazy bum. He was shirtless and wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He rolled to his side, rubbed his eyes, and stared at his husband sleepily. "Whassa matter, baby?"

"I can't seem to close my tunic." T'Challa said, still struggling. 

"Told yo ass to lay off the coconut pie." Erik mumbled. 

T'Challa heard him anyway. He snapped his head over his shoulder. "What was that?!"

Erik sighed. "Nothing, boo." He raised a hand and waved him over. "C'mere. Let me help you."

T'Challa obeyed. He walked over. Erik sat up in bed and tried to help him but found he couldn't do it either. "Damn, your titties too big." he commented.

"Oh, do be quiet." T'Challa said and smacked the back of his head. 

"Take off the padded bra thing you got underneath." 

"I can't. If I do then the milk will spill all over me." 

Erik was quiet for a moment, thinking. Then a slow smirk appeared on his face. "Well...I could always drain 'em."

T'Challa gave him a scandalized look. "You mean, drink all the milk?"

"Yeah." 

T'Challa flushed and said, "No."

"Why not?"

"It's too embarrassing." 

Erik couldn't believe his husband. "T'Challa, I've seen you breastfeed the triplets before."

"But this is different. This is obscene!"

"Baby, c'mon. The triplets aren't gonna drink all this milk. You already stored some away for them last night."

"I can just put some away in some extra bottles."

"Damn, you're gonna fill up the kitchens with your titty milk. What if someone accidentally drinks it? I'm telling you, it's gonna be easier if you just let me drink it." 

T'Challa rolled his eyes. "Fine." He opened his tunic wide. "Get to it." 

They were forty-minutes late to breakfast with the queen mother. Erik arrived wiping excess milk from his mouth with a flushing T'Challa by his side. They sat down together. Shuri gave them suspicious glances and Ramonda raised a brow at them. Three maids came in with the little princes and placed two in T'Challa's arms while the other one was taken by their grandmother. When a servant approached Erik and asked him what he wanted for breakfast, Erik said, "Nah, I already had breakfast."

T'Challa kicked him from underneath the table.


End file.
